


First Snow

by lwise2019



Series: Mikkel's Story [17]
Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21608587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lwise2019/pseuds/lwise2019
Summary: Emil carries out his promise and they head into the city as the snow falls.
Series: Mikkel's Story [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536739
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	First Snow

"Mikkel --" Emil, distressed, had the shovel in one hand. "-- I promised to bury him this morning but, but, but the ground is frozen and I can't do it and Lalli --" His face twisted into a strange mixture of distress and outrage "-- I don't know what he thought he was doing! He _mutilated_ it!"

Taking the shovel, Mikkel guided him out of the tank. "It's a mage thing, according to Tuuri. We'll bury -- uhh! -- ugh -- I see. Yes. Well. We'll bury it anyway." There was blood on the snow, the dog Beast's head had been carved up and, without taking time to look closely, Mikkel thought the skull was missing.

The ground was hard, but not nearly so hard as it would become after days and weeks of freezing. Within an hour, Mikkel had an adequate if shallow grave into which they gently lowered the Beast. As Emil shovelled the dirt back over the pitiful corpse, Mikkel collected more heavy stones for this second, much larger, cairn. He sincerely hoped that this was the last cairn he'd be building.

The snow continued, more heavily now, and Sigrun was getting increasingly impatient by the time Mikkel and Emil returned from the burial. "What's the problem? What's the stupid forest guy doing up in a stupid _tree?_ Why can't we get him down?"

"He's doing a mage thing," Tuuri put in. "It doesn't take _too_ long, I think. He has to come down before he freezes ... I mean, he has to ..."

"Oh. Umm. Yeah. Mages do what they have to do, but I wish he'd _hurry up!_ " That last she shouted in the general direction of Lalli in his tree. "Oy, little puffy-hair," she went on in a more conversational voice, "Call the elderly folks and let them know that we're heading _way_ far out today! Got to keep them in the loop too."

"Right away!" Tuuri spun and darted into the tank. Mikkel followed and paused by the radio compartment, listening. He was not, of course, concerned that she would listen too long to the static and perhaps hear the voices in it. That was a silly superstition. No, his concern was that she should get back to transcribing the journal if she couldn't get through. No point wasting a lot of time if the radio wasn't working.

Tuuri's repair, whatever it had been, had apparently permanently fixed the fault in the radio, for she connected immediately back to base. Mikkel released a breath he hadn't _really_ been holding and went back out of the tank to pack up, having everything stowed by the time Lalli returned stumbling with weariness and more or less guided by Emil for whom concern had replaced outrage. The scout's outer clothes were smeared with dried blood and Mikkel thought there were even streaks of the stuff in his ash-blond hair. Emil obviously thought the same, as he led Lalli over to the hose from the water heater, gave his jacket a tug, and handed him a bar of soap.

Getting the clear message, Lalli pulled off all his outer gear, dropped it in a heap, and dutifully scrubbed his face, hair, and scalp, and even, with a quick glance at Mikkel gathering his clothes, washed behind his ears.

"Finally!" Sigrun grumbled as Mikkel passed her with the clothes to be cleaned, Lalli hurrying behind to get out of the cold. Emil took the time to roll up and stow the hose before making for the tank himself.

"Message delivered successfully!" Tuuri exclaimed to Sigrun at this point, offering something that resembled a military salute but getting only a dismissive "Good" in response as Sigrun moved to the front of the tank to take her customary seat behind Tuuri. "Lalli," Tuuri continued with a spate of Finnish to which he gave unenthusiastic answers.

The bloody clothes would have to be washed in the tank, Mikkel thought. He didn't want to keep them around until evening in their current state, and Sigrun obviously intended to move out immediately. A minor crisis then arose as Reynir leapt back and cowered against the bulkhead as far as possible from him. "I'm sorry, but am I the only one who thinks that's a deadly health hazard?" he quavered.

Behind him, Tuuri and Lalli were heading for the front of the tank. That required immediate action! "Yes, you are," Mikkel stated curtly, dumping the clothes in a corner and hurrying to the first aid cabinet. Inside was a small jar of fennel compounded with angelica, herbs which Sigrun had found two campsites back. It _should_ be an anti-emetic, he thought, if he remembered his mother's instructions correctly. Unfortunately, an eidetic memory didn't translate to perfect memory for sounds. Lalli had managed to avoid riding in the tank while conscious ever since Mikkel had prepared the herbs, but now it seemed evident that Tuuri was going to have him riding up front.

A small ball of herbs in his left hand, he hurried forward, tapped Lalli on the shoulder, and held out the herbs while pantomiming putting something in his mouth. Hesitantly, Lalli took the herbs, sniffed them, gave Mikkel a wary look, and then, with a resigned expression, popped them into his mouth, chewed and swallowed, grimacing slightly as he did so. "Okay," Mikkel told him, then ducked back in the back and brought him a small bucket as well. Just in case.

Tuuri got the tank under way without hitting anything, and they moved out into the city as the snow continued to fall.


End file.
